Confusion
by seejanewrite88
Summary: Sequel to "Learning to Love." It's been about 3 months since Suze and Jesse got together, when Paul returns. He thinks that he's made a mistake in dumping Suze, and she realizes that she might not be as over him as she thought.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys. Since, you know, I have finals coming up and a big research paper due on Tuesday, I decided, "Hey! This is a perfect time to start a new fan fiction!"

Or, rather, not start, but CONTINUE. Yes. I was suddenly struck with some inspiration for a sequel to "LEARNING TO LOVE."

Enjoy.

…………………………………………………………………………………..

Summary: It's been 3 months since Suze and Jesse got together, when Paul decides he made a mistake, and Suze realizes she may not have been as over him as she thought.

**DISCLAIMER: I own the plot. The characters and locale belong to Meg Cabot.**

**Rating: T—a high T, though. In future chapters, it may be raised to M.**

………………………………………………………………………………………..

Chapter One 

The minute hand on the clock hit the big twelve, and my teacher nodded and let us go. Finally.

I gathered up my books, shoved them into my messenger bag, slipped into my corduroy jacket, and hurried with Cee Cee out the door.

As we did every day, I met my boyfriend, Jesse, at the fountain (turned off for the winter). He saw me coming, gave me a big smile, and pulled me into an embrace, kissing me gently on the lips. "Hello, _Querida_, how was your day?" He asked, wrapping his arm around my waist. I waved good bye to Cee Cee and Adam. We started walking together toward his car.

"Okay. I think I failed a bio test," I said, "But other than that it was alright."

"I'm sure you did perfectly fine," he said, giving me a smile that melted my heart. "You're very smart. You underestimate yourself."

"You're biased," I teased back, and he winked.

He opened the car door for me, and I slid in. He shut it, came around the back and got in the driver's seat.

"Tomorrow is your birthday," he told me. I grinned.

"Really?" He rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"I want to take you out. Where do you want to go?" I considered.

"I don't know. But I know somewhere I want to go right now," I said, smiling slyly.

"Oh? And where's that?" He asked lightly. I leaned over the gear shift, held his neck with one hand, and placed a few kisses on his neck and jaw

"How about your house?" I whispered. Jesse took a deep breath, then nodded. I sat back down, buckled up, and we were off.

………………………………………………………………………………..

What I liked about going to Jesse's place is that he lives with his aunt and uncle, both of which are way younger than his mom (Elena, his mom's sister, is 28; Jose, her husband, is 30 next month) and are much more lax with Jesse. Plus, they both work weird hours (1 p.m. to 10 at night) and are never home after school.

Jesse and I take advantage of this often.

Not that we had slept together. (Yet. I was dying to, though.) But it's sort of awkward, making out when his aunt is singing to herself in the other room.

In the kitchen, I went to get myself a glass from the cupboard. I reached up, and all of a sudden felt hands at my waist, tickling me. I shrieked, and pulled my arms down and wrapped them around my stomach. Jesse's mouth was suddenly at my jaw, kissing and nuzzling. His arms went around my waist, pulling my back against his front.

I tilted my head expertly to give him better access. After a moment I turned around to face him. He smiled at me, before I pulled his face down towards mine and kissed him. I ran my tongue over his lips, and he shivered and opened them to me.

Jesse's room was across the hallway from the kitchen, and, after a few minutes of making out leaning against the counter, I pulled him across the hall and onto his neatly made bed. He certainly didn't seem to mind the sudden change of venue. One of his hands flitted with the hem of my (sort of short) skirt, while the other held my hip firmly.

We continued kissing, with a passion and hunger for each other. I loved the way he felt against me, the way he kissed, the way he held me. It was like I couldn't get close enough to him.

So I slid my hands underneath his soft dark green sweater, feeling the strong muscles that were beneath. I gripped the hem, and started pulling it off of him.

He allowed me to, letting go of me just long enough to shove his arms out of the sleeves.

It may have been December, but it was certainly warm in his room right now.

Once the barrier of his shirt was removed, I traced my fingers in feathery shapes along his chest and stomach. He continued kissing me, down my neck and collar bone. His fingers went to the button-snaps that went down the front of my pink striped shirt. The little _pop!_ of each one coming undone seemed to excite both Jesse and I even more. He moaned into my neck, and, when the last button came popped open, he shoved the shirt open. I arched my back, pressing my chest against his, so that he could take it off properly.

I wanted desperately to continue where this was going. I cared for Jesse immensely. I was _so_ attracted to him. I wanted everything about him.

However, I know that he had never done this before. Did he want to?

When I felt a pressure against my hip, I figured it was a safe bet, so I decided to go for it.

I held his shoulders, and rolled over, so I was on top. I kissed him once more, before sitting up. I was straddling his legs, my skirt having ridden up a bit in the commotion. I traced my hands down his chest, down his "goody trail," as some call it. I stopped my hands at the button and zipper of his corduroy pants. We were both breathing heavily. He was flat on his back, looking up at me with a lusty—but loving—gaze. Oh yea. I wasn't wearing a shirt.

Well, I mean, I had a bra on. Only gross people don't wear bras over the age of 12, and Jesse hadn't removed mine yet. But it was lace. And slightly push-up.

But then his face contorted into a look of dilemma. He looked way more stressed than a guy with a half naked girl on his lap should.

_Make him relax. Make him crazier_._ Guys love girls doing manual labor._ Voices, echoes from my past came into my head. I remembered many conversations like this at lunch, back when I went to RLS. I was still afraid to go all the way with Paul, but all of my friends were actively sleeping with their boyfriends, and giving each other tips and suggestions.

I hadn't needed them with Paul. He was the aggressive one, the confident one. He never needed any help relaxing. But Jesse was different.

I reached for the button of his pants when suddenly his hands grip my wrists. Hard.

He gently pushed me off of him, and sat up. He reached for my shirt, which was hanging from one of his bedposts, and handed it to me.

I grudgingly put it on, sort of upset about being stopped so suddenly. I stood up, and straightened my skirt. He simply got off the bed, picked up his sweater from where I had tossed it, and put it back on.

"Are you hungry? Aunt Elena baked some cookies for her friend's birthday, I think she left some on the counter." And with that, he just left the room and went back into the kitchen. I stared at his back.

Cookies? We come _that_ close, and then he suddenly stops and offers me cookies?

How did he cool down so quickly? I mean, he seemed totally into it until he actually saw me without a shirt on. Most guys get even _more_ excited at that point.

Unless… maybe he thought I was a slut. I mean, I know he wasn't too excited when he found out that I wasn't a virgin. And now, after only 3 months, I'm trying to sleep with him.

I really _am_ a slut, aren't I?

Or maybe he didn't like what he saw. He realized I'm unattractive, or fat, or—

"Susannah? Are you coming?"

"You know what, I think I should be getting home," I said lamely.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, concerned.

Of course. My boyfriend just suddenly is acting completely repulsive towards me.

"Yea. I just… should go study or something. I want to be able to bring my bio grade up." He looked at me dubiously (he, of all people, knew best that I never, ever study for anything).

"Okay," he said, letting it drop. He grabbed his car keys from a hook in the kitchen. I picked up my coat and book bag from the hall, and followed him out to his car.

We were both silent on the way home, each of us contemplating each other's actions. Something in me knew I was over reacting, but I couldn't help it.

It wasn't so much that he stopped me, but that he didn't give me a reason why. It was like he didn't want to tell me why. If he had said, "Susannah, not today, Elena is coming home early," or, "_Querida_, the time isn't right. We should wait until it at least isn't daylight still" or something.

But all he said was that his aunt had baked some cookies.

He pulled up in my driveway, and parked the car. As I was reaching for the door handle, he took my other hand. I turned to look at him.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay? And I'm taking you out tomorrow night."

"Okay," I said. He pulled my face towards him gently, and kissed me gently on the lips. "See you later," I said, and then I opened the door and went into my house.

…………………………………………………………………..

Okay, kind of short. But not entirely pointless.

Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

Hey. I'm glad you're all enjoying it so far.

Keep the reviews coming, please:-)

………………………………………………………………………………………..

CHAPTER TWO 

Once I closed the front door, I heard the crunching gravel as Jesse pulled out of the driveway. I dropped my book bag, hung up my coat, and went into the kitchen.

"Susie, you're home early," my mom commented absently as she went through the mail. "You usually don't come home from Jesse's until supper time." That is, an hour from now.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I have some things to do." That was when I noticed a _huge_ bouquet of flowers set on the dining room table. "Whoa, what are those for?" I asked, examining one of the peach-colored pink sweetheart roses- my favorite flower.

"Oh, I forgot. They came for you this afternoon." My eyes bulged.

"For _me_? Who are they from?" I began searching for a card.

"I don't know. Why don't you bring them up to your room?" Mom suggested. I picked up the glass vase, and started up the stairs—carefully, because they were blocking my vision.

I set them down on my dresser, and began searching for a card. It took me a while to find, but eventually I produced a small envelope, with "Suze" written on it. Inside was a cardboard rectangle, with the florist's name on it and a simple message: "Happy Birthday, with love." No signature.

Hmm. They must have been from Jesse. That's odd, though. He didn't mention anything.

Pushing the flowers out of my mind, I went back downstairs to get my book bag, and then settled back in my bed again to do my homework.

…………………………………………………………………………………..

The next morning, my alarm went off, jarring me from my sleep. But then I realized, "Hey, I'm seventeen today."

I got out of bed and spotted the flowers from the day before. I took a whiff of them briefly before getting into the shower.

Since it was my birthday, I spent even more time than usual getting dressed. By the time Brad screamed for me to get my ass downstairs, I was looking more spiffy than usual in a garnet colored skirt and black tee-shirt with a denim jacket.

As we pulled into the Mission's student parking lot, I saw Jesse walking from his car, and I tensed up. He had called last night, but I had fallen asleep way earlier than I usually did.

I still wasn't sure about how he felt about me, and was a bit nervous about yesterday.

But when I approached him, and called his name tentatively, he turned around with a big grin and pulled me into a big hug, lifting me off the ground a bit.

"Happy Birthday, _Querida_," he whispered into my hair, and then kissed me on the lips.

"Thanks," I said, after we pulled apart. "Were those flowers from you?" He looked perplexed.

"Flowers?" I guess not.

"Never mind. They must have been from my Grandma or someone," I said easily, linking my arm around his waist. "So, where are you taking me tonight?" It was Friday, which meant that I could stay out until midnight, rather than ten on school nights.

"Bonita Vida," he said, naming a local Spanish restaurant that is very popular. "Then I convinced Jose to take Elena out for drinks after they get off work, so we can come back to the house without them hanging around." I grinned, and kissed him quickly.

"Sounds wonderful," I said. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, _Querida_," he said.

And all of my fears and concerns from the day before melted away when he smiled.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

After school, I was forced to fend for myself to get a ride home. Jesse was very sorry, but he had somewhere to be 5 minutes after we got out of school—he would be pushing it without the extra trip up my hill. Brad had wrestling practice, and Adam was staying after to work on a project with some kids in his science class.

I started walking through the parking lot, towards the road that took me to my house, wrapping my scarf around my neck and face tightly to protect me from the stiff winter breeze. Suddenly, a voice came out of no where.

"Did you get the flowers?" I looked around, startled, for the source of the words. I stiffened when I saw the speaker.

It was Paul.

I hadn't seen him since the back to school dance in September, when he and Jesse and gotten into a fight, and Jesse and I got together. When I saw him, my pulse suddenly quickened—from fear, I told myself.

"What do you want?" I spat. He came over from his car.

"Did you get the flowers? For your birthday yesterday?" I rolled my eyes.

"My birthday's today." He cringed slightly.

"Sorry… I'm terrible with dates," he apologized flirtatiously. I eyed him warily.

"What do you want? Or are you banging some freshman and came to pick her up?" He looked scandalized, like I had just suggested that prospect to Mother Theresa or something, not the guy who broke up with me after I slept with him.

"Suze, I think I've made a mistake," he admitted. His face looked sincere, but I kept myself guarded. "I miss you, Suze."

I laughed. "Me? You miss _me?_ Me, who you screwed and dumped and hit?" He cringed again, as if he had some sort of selective memory and he had forgotten about all that.

"Suze, I'm more sorry than I can say. I don't know why I ever did something like that."

"I do. Because you're a douche," I said maturely. (a/n: douche is my new favorite insult. I think it comes from sitting in front of two people in math class who call everyone douches.)

That was when my cell phone buzzed in my pocket, against my hip. (My parents finally got me one, once I started hanging out with Jesse so much. They never knew where I was or how they could get in touch with me). Thinking that it would make Paul leave, I pulled it out and saw "Jesse" on the screen.

"Hey Jesse," I cooed into the phone, more lovey-dovey than I can usually stand out of someone. But I _was_ putting on a show. Paul's eyes narrowed when he heard the name—and the tone I said it in.

"Hi, Susannah. Listen, I just got confirmation for the reservation. I'll pick you up at 6:45, okay?"

"You'll pick me up at 6:45," I repeated. "Awesome. I can't wait." Jesse chuckled.

"Me either, Susannah. I'll see you later."

"Love you," I said, and hung up. Paul looked angry.

"You're going out with that jackass?" he spat.

"Please," I said sarcastically. "He's the jackass?" Paul sighed, and ran his hand through his golden hair. As big of a jerk he is, he's still really hot.

"Suze," he said, more softly, "Listen. This isn't going well. I came here to apologize for… what happened between us. But listen, I made a mistake. I still want you." My heart started beating more quickly as he stepped toward me and gently pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. I couldn't move, or breathe, or punch him. "We should be together," he whispered sensuously against the skin where the piece of hair had been laying.

Finally, I regained control of my body and shoved him away… just as he was moving his mouth down toward mine.

"Screw you, Paul," I growled, and started walking away.

"It isn't over," he called as I left the parking lot. "I'll be back for you."

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Even though I was still shaken and confused about my encounter with Paul, I took special care with my appearance. Bonita Vida is a nice restaurant, but not super-formal so I changed into a simple burgundy dress.

Even as I was putting in some earrings and I heard Jesse ring the doorbell, Paul was on my mind. Why had he approached me today? What did that even mean, that he decided he made a mistake? That he wanted to get back together?

And where did that leave me?

When I heard Jesse's voice, I forcibly shoved those thoughts out of my head and quickly pulled on my pumps and did one last glance in the mirror before going downstairs.

Jesse was standing in the living room with my mom, chatting casually. When he saw me, his face brightened. I came the rest of the way down the stairs, and he kissed me on the cheek, and handed me a rose. I smiled.

"Thank you."

"Why don't I put that in some water for you?" my mom offered. "You two go, have fun. Have her back by midnight, okay, Jesse?"

"Of course, Mrs. Ackerman." My mom took the flower, and I took Jesse's hand.

Once out in the car, Jesse gave me the long, deep kiss he had been wanting to give me—but with parents present, Jesse and I try not to put our tongues in each other's mouths.

As we drove, we talked a little bit, but I was other places. Paul was still on my mind, as hard as it was to get him out.

"Is everything okay? You're quiet," Jesse commented, "which is very unusual." I punched him in the arm jokingly.

"I'm fine," I said. Why didn't I tell him? I should have.

But I didn't want to cause another fight between the two of them.

Right?

Jesse took one hand from the wheel and squeezed mine gently, before pulling into the parking lot of Bonita Vida.

We continued chatting while we ate. We briefly discussed where Jesse was applying for college—all local, but respectable, universities. None were more than 2 hours away, and I liked that.

After dinner was cleared away, Jesse said, "Now, it's time for your present." I grinned expectantly, and he laughed. He dug into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a box, wrapped in the pink foil wrapping paper that is synonymous with Laura Lynn's, a local jewelry store; whenever anyone we know got their First Communion, graduated, had a birthday, or was confirmed, my mom dragged me there to pick out something nice. And they always had nice stuff.

I slid my finger under the meticulous folded edge, and tore apart the tape. Once it was completely unwrapped, I took off the top of the box and the cotton thing they put on top.

In the box was a fine gold chain, with an emerald pendant. Jesse quickly came around to put it around my neck. "It matches your eyes perfectly," he whispered.

I turned around and kissed him, briefly, since we were in a restaurant.

"Thank you," I whispered back.

"Happy birthday," he grinned.

After that, Jesse took the check—despite my offer to help pay. I mean, yea, it was my birthday, but he had also just given me an amazing present. He promised dessert back at his house.

We left the restaurant, and drove back. It was only about quarter to ten at that point, and I had another 2 hours before I had to be home.

Since Elena and Jose were out, the place was empty and dark when Jesse pulled into the driveway. He unlocked the door, flipped on the lights, and took off his jacket.

"Make yourself at home," he said. "I'll be out with dessert in the minute." I slipped out of my shoes and hung my jacket on the hook. I ventured into the living room, and lounged on the couch. A moment later, he reappeared, with two individual tarts.

"Mmm," I said, sitting up and taking the plate from him. "This looks delicious." He grinned.

"I baked them last night." I gave him a long, slow kiss before taking a bite.

"You spoil me," I told him. He just smiled.

We ate, not really talking at all, just looking at each other. He had taken off his tie, and undone the first few buttons of his shirt, giving me just the smallest peek at his amazing chest. He had rolled up his sleeves, too, giving him just an all-around appearance of being _hot_.

As I took in the surroundings…the two of us, alone, after a romantic dinner, at night… with the house to ourselves. Not to mention my birthday.

A little voice came into my head. He's been so great to you, it whispered. Maybe why he was so reluctant yesterday was because the timing wasn't right. He wanted to wait until your birthday. That's why he sent his aunt and uncle away.

It made sense to me. Hey, I wanted to have sex with him. ('Making love' is such a terrible phrase. I hate it. I equate it with bad romance novels and clichéd love scenes.)

After he set his plate down, I crawled closer to him on the couch. Then I took his face in my hands, and kissed him.

He responded accordingly, kissing me back and holding my hips with his hands. He deepened the kiss, and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

Eventually he leaned into me, and pushed me against the couch. _Mmm._ I started unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way, and I felt his fingers go to the zipper at the back of my dress.

But again, suddenly, he stopped. He just picked his head up off of mine, removed his hands from my back and pulled my hands from his chest, and simply said, "No."

"Why not?" I asked, breathless. There seemed to be some inner turmoil again. He got off of me the rest of the way.

"I don't want to," he said shortly. My eyes widened.

"You don't _want_ to?" I repeated.

"No," he said, as curt as he was before.

I couldn't believe my ears. He didn't _want_ to be with me physically. Maybe emotionally.

But I guess I did nothing to attract him physically.

People always say that they want someone for their personality, and they want people to love them for THEIR personality.

But you know what?

I want to think the guy I'm with is hot.

And I want them to think I'm hot.

Because there is no "relationship" if there is no attraction.

Which, apparently, there wasn't in this one.

Or, if there was, it was one sided.

Upset and confused, I quickly got off the couch, straightened my dress out, and started heading for the door.

"Susannah?" he called, confused, and followed me.

"I'm going home," I said, putting my shoes back on and grabbing my jacket.

"Susannah, what--" he began, but I was already opening the door and stalking out of the house. "Stop!" He groaned. "Let me drive you home. It's dark out. Wait."

"I don't _want_ to," I said acidly.

He stopped protesting, and let me leave.

Once I was around the corner from his house, I let the tears fall. Jesse was a great guy and everything, but what he had just said to me just then?

Basically, "I think you're cool, but you're ugly as shit and I don't want to touch you." Paraphrased, of course.

I would hate to think that I'm becoming what Paul was to me… the one who pressured the significant other into sex.

But it's not that he said "I don't feel ready," or "I think we should wait until we've been together longer."

He just didn't _want_ to. He wasn't _interested._ In me.

He wasn't yesterday, either, was he? God, I'm so stupid.

It was dark, and I could barely see the roads that I was walking on. It was almost eleven, and there were hardly any cars on the road.

It was cold out, being December, and I shivered in my wool coat. I hugged it tighter to me, and tried to control my tears.

By the time I got home, I was sure that my face was dry, albeit red and probably puffy. When I opened the door, the house was quiet. Good. I hung up my jacket, pulled my shoes off of my aching feet—I had just walked a good two miles in heels—and started up the stairs.

"Susie?" Damn.

"Yea?"

"Are you home already? I didn't expect you for another hour. I didn't hear Jesse's car." My mom came out of her room.

"We had a change of plans," I said shortly.

"Oh… okay," she said uncertainly, and though she likely noticed my red eyes, she didn't say anything. "If you need to talk, let me know." I nodded grimly, and went into my room and closed the door.

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

Ho hum… so the plot thickens.

Review, okay? Thanks.


	3. Chapter 3

Sunshine—you are skirting around the key to the whole story.   
CHAPTER THREE 

The next morning I woke up, feeling very uncomfortable. I sat up from my bed, looked around confusedly, and realized I was still in the clothes I was wearing last night.

My dress was wrinkled, twisted, and hiked up, my hair was a fuzzball, and I still had the necklace from Jesse on.

I quickly took it off—not just because I was peeved at the guy, but because I didn't want to damage it. I changed from my dress into a pair of sweats and a tee-shirt, and started to go downstairs for breakfast.

I was still upset about the night before. I mean, Jesse had basically told me that he wasn't attracted to me. At all.

Nothing is worse than something being unrequited. Jesse was one of the hottest guys I had ever seen—if not _the_ hottest. I wanted him so badly. Not only his body, but his personality too. He was just such an all-around great guy. An extremely HOT great guy.

But knowing that this superior being didn't think I was hot… didn't want to touch me…made me feel inferior. Like one of those stupid freshman who get crushes on the hot senior jock who's going out with the head cheerleader. I felt so stupid, and low, and just… below him.

And it sucked.

It isn't hard if just some random guy doesn't find you particularly aesthetically pleasing. It's like, the feeling's mutual. But knowing the guy who you are just so completely attracted to doesn't feel the same way…

It hurts.

All of this mulling in my head, I slouched down the stairs and into the kitchen. Andy had made Pop-overs (a/n: greatest breakfast food ever, in my opinion), so I took one from the pan and ripped it open, spreading butter inside.

Mom had left a note, saying that they had gone out. We were having my family birthday dinner tonight, and I was almost positive they were out doing some last minute shopping.

The phone rang. I swallowed my bite, and headed over to the phone and checked the caller ID.

"Rodriguez, Jose and Elena."

Jesse.

I let it ring. I wasn't in the mood to talk to him. I listened to the rings, until I heard a beep. "Hello, you've reached the Ackerman and Simon residence. We can't come to the phone right now, please leave a message." _Beeeeepppp_. Jesse's beautiful voice echoed through the kitchen.

"Susannah, I have a feeling you're here, but if you're not, please call me back. We need to talk. I know you're… upset, and I want to know why. I want to make it right." I snorted. "Just… please. Call me back." There was a hint of something in his voice at the end—desperation? Exasperation? Exhaustion? Whatever it was, I ignored it, and pressed the delete button as soon as he hung up.

After I finished up my second pop-over and was starting on my hot chocolate, the phone rang again. I sighed, fearing it was Jesse again (bit stalkerish, if you ask me… calling twice in twenty minutes?), but the little screen said "Slater, Paul." He had his own phone line.

Groaning, for some reason, I picked it up. "What do you want?" I asked.

"Suze, hi. I'm doing fine, how about you?" He said brightly.

"Paul, don't give me crap. Why are you calling?"

"I told you yesterday, Suze. I made a huge mistake. I am so sorry." I yawned. "Seriously. I don't regret anything more than I regret what happened." His voice went slightly husky. "Well, I don't regret anything that happened while we were together… because that was amazing. We're amazing together. We're meant to be together. I care about you, Suze. More than I've cared about anyone else, ever." Surprisingly, his voice was incredibly sincere and apologetic. I softened toward him. "I want to see you. I _need_ to see you. Can I come and pick you up? We can go out for lunch, or something?" It was already 11:30. I sighed.

And, for some reason, my lips began moving, forming words I wasn't willing to say. "Fine. Pick me up in an hour."

"Good. I'll see you then."

And then he hung up.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Afterward, my mind flew with questions I was asking myself. Why had I accepted? What about Jesse? Don't I remember what he did to me?

What was I going to wear?

It didn't have anything to do with Jesse thinking I'm ugly, I reasoned as I washed my hair in the shower. Paul wants forgiveness. Isn't that what Father Dom is always telling me to do? Forgive others?

So really, I'm going to see my ex boyfriend because a priest told me to.

Right?

After my shower, I slipped into a pair of jeans and a button down shirt, and blow-dried my hair and made sure I looked good.

All awhile, I kept berating myself for accepting… and not calling him right back and telling him to go screw himself.

Still, though, an hour after the phone call ended, a horn honked outside in the driveway. I quickly pulled on a coat, grabbed my purse with my house keys and cell phone, and closed the door.

"Hey, Simon," he greeted, leaning across the seat and opening the door for me. 'Simon' was what he called me before he asked me out… the teasing-flirting last name thing. I took a deep breath, and slid into the car and shut the door.

He started driving effortlessly, completely relaxed, whereas I felt like there was a spring inside of me that was slowly winding tighter and tighter. "You're seeing that de Silva guy now?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied curtly. He laughed.

"Things can't be going so great if you're here, in _my_ car, with _me_." I glared at him.

"Things between Jesse and I are wonderful," I lied. "I am only here because Father Dominic wants me to be more forgiving.

"Father Dominic?" he asked.

"The principal at my school." He chuckled.

"He's a mediator, too," I said, without thinking about it. Paul raised his eyebrows and looked over at me.

"Really," he said. I nodded.

"So is Jesse," I added. His eyes darkened slightly.

"Well, I doubt he's a shifter, like us," he said. "He will never be as powerful as you or me." I rolled my eyes. Before we went out, he'd always go on about how 'powerful' I'd be if I trained with him.

He pulled the BMW into a more upscale local deli… one that he clearly didn't choose randomly.

He had first kissed me at Carmel by the Sea Delicatessen.

I was sent awash in memories when we walked in and he grabbed my hand and pulled me over to "our" table in the corner—where we always sat, had our Italian subs, and talked (and often ended up making out).

He pulled out the chair facing the wall, "my" spot. He took the one facing the rest of the deli, as usual.

When the waitress came up, Paul ordered for me—Italian sub with provolone cheese, mayonnaise, oil-n-vinegar, and no lettuce, tomatoes, or onions, with a diet coke. What I always ordered.

He remembered.

After the waitress left, Paul just sat there, looking at me with this half smile on his face.

"What?" I asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"Nothing… it's just, in the past few months, I forgot how beautiful you are." I blushed, unsure of how to respond.

It was just then that a ghost materialized outside of the window. I saw her first (Paul's eyes had moved from my face… but not _too_ far, if you know what I mean), and I sighed. He moved his eyes back up to my face, and I jerked my head, gesturing outside. He saw the glowing woman, and rolled his eyes.

"You want to help her, don't you?" he asked, bored.

"That's what we're supposed to do," I said, raising my eyebrows at him. This was an old argument. It had happened every time a ghost had come by when we were together.

"Come on, Suze. She can help herself. Besides, there are many more things I'd like to be doing." His voice dropped to a whisper, and a single finger slowly made its way up my arm.

My arm tingled where he touched it, and I suddenly felt very warm. Despite this, though, I was able to jerk my arm back against me.

"Paul, what the hell. I have a boyfriend," I hissed, clutching my arm like he had been tracing a line up it with a knife, not a finger.

He just grinned.

Then he leaned across the table and put his mouth less than an inch from my jaw, right between my ear and my neck. All oxygen left my lungs.

"Fine, Suze… I'll help you do what you want to do, if you help me do something I want to do," he whispered hoarsely, placing the tiniest, lightest, innocent kiss on my flaming skin. "How does that sound?" My body was frozen from shock, but he must have taken my immobility for acquiescence, because the next kiss wasn't nearly as light or innocent as the first one. Just like what had often transpired in our other dates here, his hand suddenly curled around my neck and his mouth opened slightly against my jugular. I'm sure he could feel my rapidly beating pulse against his lips.

Until suddenly my mobility came back, and in one motion I pulled my hands up from where they were gripping the edge of my chair, shoved his face away from me, and pushed my chair back from the table.

"_Paul!_" I whisper-shouted. I reached down to the floor, grabbed my purse, and started to get up. "I'm leaving."

"Suze, no!" he said anxiously. His desperation made me freeze. "I'm sorry. I promise, I'll keep my hands to myself," he said, but then his voice became slightly husky. "I just couldn't help it. Suze… I'm sorry. It won't happen again." His sincerity convinced me to sit back down, however reluctantly.

The waitress came then with our sandwiches, and I was relieved for something to distract me from Paul's obvious desire to, well, touch me. I scooted my chair as far away from him as possible, and started eating carefully—not only because his eyes were still hungry (and not for the sub that was in his hand), but because the last thing I wanted was for a glob of mayonnaise to plop onto my face—or worse, my jeans.

"So tell me," he said, after taking a swig of his root beer, "How have you been?"

"Well, my bruises finally faded," I said scornfully. "It only took about a month." He looked uncomfortable.

"Suze… I am so, so sorry about that," he said, after swallowing his bite of sub (with a bit of difficulty). "I honestly don't know what happened… you know I was never, ever like that, except for that one time… breaking up with you was a really hard decision. I cared a lot about you, and couldn't stand seeing you so upset about something I did… I just snapped. My sadness came out as anger."

"Cared? Past-tense?" I asked.

"Care," he corrected. "I did then, and I still do." I put those last four words in the back of my head.

"So why did you break up with me, if you cared about me so much?" I asked derisively. He sighed, and looked across the restaurant.

"I don't know," he said. "It was stupid. I was—am—crazy about you. But Matt-" his best friend "-said that it isn't right to have such strong feelings at this age. That it was bound to end up badly. And I listened to him, and thought that maybe if I broke up with you, then I'd stop caring about you and I wouldn't get hurt." He shook his head. "It was one of the stupidest things I've ever done, Suze, and I hope that one day you can forgive me."

I swallowed, unsure of what to say. That certainly wasn't what I expected. "You weren't good in bed," yea. "I wasn't ready for a commitment," sure.

But that he was afraid to get hurt, and was confused because he cared _too_ much about me?

Not so much.

Unwelcome feelings of regret (for being so angry with him) and forgiveness began to overwhelm me. Suddenly, I almost wished I hadn't stopped him before…

"I think I should be getting home," I said faintly, setting down my food. I had only eaten half of it, but I was no longer hungry.

"Of course." He wiped his hands on the napkin, and went up to the cash register to pay. I got into my jacket, and he led me back out to his car, holding my hand.

The car ride was completely silent… except for in my head. There was an inner debate going on, with two sides of myself screaming and yelling at each other in my brain. One half said, "What are you, stupid? That guy basically hit you, used you, and dumped you, and now you want him again? When you have Jesse, who is completely enamored with you?"

The other half was shouting back, "But Paul really likes you. He seems crazy about you—something Jesse isn't. Who 'doesn't want to' be with the girl they're supposed to be with?"

By the time he pulled into my driveway, I had a raging headache and was so confused I wanted to throw up.

"I had a really good time," Paul said as he turned off the car. "It was wonderful to see you again." I nodded, and reached for the door handle when suddenly his hand was on mine.

My eyes widened, and I saw his face slowly approach mine, his lips only the slightest bit open.

Soon, his warm, soft lips were on mine, and I felt a rush of nostalgia. His hand moved to the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair, ever so gently massaging my scalp, holding me against his lips as he deepened the kiss, smoothly moving his tongue from his mouth to mine.

And I didn't stop him.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Review.


	4. Chapter 4

Monday morning, I woke up feeling sick with nerves. For about the millionth time in the past two days, my mind replayed Saturday afternoon… Paul leaning in to me, kissing me, pushing deeper…

Me letting him, not pushing him way, not reacting, only pulling away when he started to feel me up, whispering a quick goodbye and then dashing up to my room to cry.

But whenever I started feeling so guilty about Jesse, my brain replayed another image. Him, shoving me away, telling me that he didn't want me. Me, crying and hurting.

But then came memories of Paul, from walking down in the morning, giddy and excited about the whole new level of closeness Paul and I had reached, and having my mom give me the note. Me confronting him, him telling me horrible things and then giving me those bruises that lasted nearly a month. Then him, going off to make out with another girl.

And then came Paul's confession yesterday… that he only broke up with me because he thought he cared about me too much. That he was so upset at hurting me, that he still cared about me even after everything.

Even after a day long painful meditation of my heart, I was still confused as hell.

But I couldn't forget Jesse's utter repulsion of me, and coming home crying on my birthday.

Nor could I forget Paul's sincerity, in his voice and eyes, when he told me I was beautiful… that he was crazy about me.

I came into school that morning with my step brothers, incredibly nervous. The only good thing was that Paul went to RLS. I didn't have to worry about seeing him today.

Jesse, however, was a different story.

I ran into Cee Cee first. "Hey, Suze," she greeted, cheerfully, unaware of my inner turmoil and confusion. "How was your weekend?"

"Eh," I said inadequately. "Yours?"

"Adam and I went to go see that new movie…" she began to tell me about a date she and Adam had went on—they were happily together, and had been for about 2 ½ months. According to Jesse, it was about 10 years in the making.

I was listening to her tell me a funny story about some couple near them at a restaurant, when a deep voice from behind me interrupted her.

"Susannah?" I took a deep breath, and slowly turned around.

"Hey Jesse, sit down. I was just telling Suze about--" Cee Cee began, but Jesse uncharacteristically interrupted her.

"Susannah, I need to talk to you," he said in a low, insistent voice. Cee Cee and I both took in Jesse's appearance. He looked haggard and upset, like he hadn't slept at all the night before.

"Can it wait?" I asked lamely, my non-confrontational side taking over. "Cee Cee was telling me this funny story about--"

"No, Susannah," he said firmly. "Now." Cee Cee looked at us, perplexed, and didn't say anything. I guess it was clear that there were some bad vibes between us.

Suddenly, anger and impatience flickered up in me. "I don't _want_ to," I said scornfully, earning a shocked expression from Cee Cee, who had no idea what was going on between us. Jesse didn't either, apparently, because he didn't appear to pick up the significance of my words, and merely grabbed my hand, pulled me to my feet, and walked me to a shadowy pathway between the courtyard and the garden and cemetery in the back.

"Susannah, what is going on?" he asked as soon as everyone else was out of earshot. I didn't say anything, just sighed and looked away from his unrelenting eyes. "You are clearly upset with me, and I don't know why. Please, Susannah, tell me why you're mad at me."

This time, I looked him straight in the eye, and was surprised to see a level of pain, hurt, and confusion. Still, though, I pressed on, and repeated, "I don't want to." I held my gaze, as he got even more baffled.

"Susannah, is this about Friday night? And… us?" he said vaguely, but we both knew exactly what he was talking about.

I didn't respond.

Jesse sighed again, and ran a hand through his hair. "Jack called me yesterday," he said, with a forced nonchalance. "He said he was at Carmel Deli on Saturday, and saw you there. With a guy." I sighed.

"I just went out with a friend. God, stop being so possessive," I said, immediately implicating myself with the clichéd argument of an adulteress.

Jesse's face darkened slightly, and his next words were said with a grim resolution, as if it was hard for him to be saying them. "Susannah, listen to me. If you absolutely refuse to tell me why you're upset with me, fine. But if you are… seeing someone else, _let me know_. I don't want to be the last to know that my _girlfriend_ is carrying on with another man."

"Jesse, I didn't do _anything_," I insisted. This was true. _I_ didn't do anything.

It was all him.

"Ah, there you are. Ms. Webb said you had come over here… please, come to my office. I have something to discuss with the two of you," he said, with a cheerful naïveté.

Jesse and I followed him in silence. In the office, we sat down, but not next to each other, like we usually did. If Father Dom noticed, he didn't say anything.

"I was visited by a ghost last night. She's a middle-aged woman, in her 30s or so. I asked her to stop by around now so we can work together." I nodded, only half paying attention.

Jesse was sitting completely still, with a neutral look on his face. Any evidence of hurt or jealousy he had before was gone.

A few moments later, there was a shimmer and, surprisingly, the waitress who served Paul and I at the restaurant appeared. I shrunk down in my seat.

"You look familiar," she said, scrutinizing me.

"I was at the deli yesterday," I said. "You served me." She wrinkled her nose in concentration, then remembered.

"Oh yea! You were with the boy, right? Is he your boyfriend? He's kind of cute," she teased. I paled, and Jesse fumed.

"He's not my boyfriend," I said firmly. She looked confused—she had probably seen him try to eat my neck—but didn't press it.

"Grace, correct?" Father Dominic said, interrupting our exchange.

"Yes, Father."

"Can you tell us… what happened?" Jesse asked calmly.

"I'm not entirely sure. But yesterday afternoon, I was walking to the bus stop… I heard a car. That's all I remember."

"Do you know why you're still here?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "Me and my husband, well, we have been a bit down on our luck. He got laid off a few months ago—damn economy—and we've been having trouble making ends meet. But Saturday, I went out on a whim and bought a lottery ticket, and, well, won. He was in San Francisco, though, visiting his parents, and I didn't get a chance to tell him before I died. He doesn't know, and I had hid the ticket for safekeeping." She looked sideways at me. "I always lose things unless I put them in strange places."

"Where is it?" I asked. "We can try to contact him and let him know where it is."

"I put it in the freezer, in a waffle box. He hates waffles, and he'd never find it."

"How much did you win?" I asked. What? I was curious.

"Susannah!" Father Dom scolded. She didn't seem to mind, though.

"Hundred grand," she said proudly. "Should only come out to be $50,000 or so with taxes and everything, but that should be able to hold him over until he gets another job… without my income, as small as it is, he really wouldn't be able to manage."

"We'll let him know soon, Grace," Jesse said warmly. She thanked us, and left.

Father Dominic checked his clock. "Oh, my! It's already halfway through first period… here, let me write you two passes." Jesse and I waited in silence while Father Dominic scribbled on the sea green slips of paper. "Here you go, children. I'll get back in touch with you when I get Grace's husband's contact information." Jesse and I left the office together, but still in silence. Normally, after our morning meetings, we get a few minutes of conversation (or kissing) in between Father Dom's office and our classrooms.

He was obviously still upset with me, because when we reached my class room he didn't say goodbye, not even glance in my direction.

I guess I couldn't blame him, but it still hurt.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

During lunch, I went over to our usual table. Adam was talking to Rachel about something, and Jesse wasn't present. Cee Cee eyed me when I sat down.

"Jesse said he wasn't eating with us today, that he's 'busy.'" I looked down at my pasta salad. "What's going on between you two?" I sighed, and looked around.

"Can we go somewhere else?" She nodded, went over to tell Adam that we were taking a walk, kissed him on the cheek and followed me out to the cemetery.

"This is sort of a weird place to come to talk, Suze," she said, sitting down on one of the benches. I shrugged.

"Cemeteries are relaxing," I said vaguely, pulling and pushing my fork through the pasta.

"Whatever. Now, tell me, what is going on." I sighed again.

"I don't think Jesse likes me," I said quickly, but Cee Cee caught it.

"What the hell gives you that idea?" she asked incredulously.

"Friday night… after dinner, we went back to his place. And we started kissing… and I started unbuttoning his shirt… and all of a sudden, he just stops, stands up, and walks away, going, 'No, Suze, I won't want to do this anymore, because I don't find you the lease bit attractive,'" I said. She raised his eyebrows.

"What did he _really_ say?"

" 'I don't want to.' That's it. But that's what he was really saying… that he isn't attracted to me at all. So I left. And haven't really talked to him since." Cee Cee shook her head.

"Suze, stop being stupid. Jesse is crazy about you. And he thinks you're hot." I rolled my eyes disbelievingly. "Did anything else happen?" I bit my lip, unsure of whether or not to tell her about Paul.

"I went out on Saturday with a guy… a friend," I said. "Someone Jesse knows saw us, and told him, and now he thinks I'm, like, sleeping around and accused me of cheating and stuff."

"Suze, what did you expect him to think? He doesn't have sex with you, like you were trying, then you leave in a fit and show up the next day with another guy!" When she said it that way, it sounded much worse.

"But Cee, he wasn't 'not ready.' He never said any feasible and completely, 100 acceptable excuse. God, Cee, if he had said that he didn't feel ready, I would never, _ever_ be upset with him. It's that he just stood up, completely unaffected by me, and told me that he wasn't interesting in doing that with me. I felt like such an idiot. Like a whore. Like one of those pathetic girls who actually think they have a chance with their movie star crush. He just made me feel so unwanted… and so low for wanting someone who _clearly_ didn't want me." To my embarrassment, I suddenly realized I was crying. I took my napkin and wiped my eyes.

"Suze… I don't know what that boy was thinking, but trust me. You're wrong. I _know_ he totally crazy about you _and_ your body." I rolled my wet, dripping eyes again, and sniffed.

"Whatever. Lunch is almost over. I need to fix my face." I abruptly stood up, and left Cee Cee alone in the cemetery.

In the bathroom, I dried my eyes and fixed my makeup. By the time I heard the rush of students going back to class, I looked presentable again.

As I walked to class, I felt a buzz in my bag. Someone was calling or texting my phone. Before class officially started, I pulled it out discretely and checked it. "Suze-I got some interesting info about shifting. I'll pick you up after school." No question it was from Paul (how had he gotten my number?).

I was worried about seeing Paul again, but the shifter information intrigued me. Though sometimes the lessons had been boring, some of the potential powers I could have fascinated me.

After a hesitation, I quickly sent him a message: "Ok."

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

This chapter was going to be longer, but I decided to split it up.

Please review, and I should probably get another chapter up tomorrow or so. Hopefully.


	5. Chapter 5

This chapter is going to be shorter, since it was originally supposed to be part of last chapter. But that also means you get a quick update, so it balances out, right?

Sunshine—actually, I threw the mediation in suddenly because a reader reminded me. I sort of had put it on the back burner, but since someone requested it, I thought I should bring it back up. It has a lot to do with the actual books, so I decided to bring it back a bit.

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

I waited the rest of the day with nervous anticipation. I only saw Jesse from a distance, and he never acknowledged me. I'd use the cliché "I was like a ghost to him," but he can see ghosts. Not the most effective comparison, in this case.

When the last class let out, I hurried toward my locker, but Cee Cee found me. "C'mon. We're going out, and we're going to figure out what to do about Jesse."

"Uh, sorry, I'm busy," I said, while shoving stuff into my bag. She frowned at me. "I've got plans."

"With who?" She started to ask, but I was already hurrying away.

"See you later," I called over my shoulder.

I hurried out onto the street, looking around carefully for Paul—and Jesse. Contrary to my current actions, I had no intentions of forgetting about Jesse. However, despite what Cee Cee said, I wasn't convinced about Jesse thinking I was hot. I mean, she wasn't _there_. She didn't hear his voice. See his eyes.

I saw a silver car, and went toward it. I slid into the passenger's seat. Paul leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my head and he caught my cheek.

He didn't mind, though. He drove off, unaffected, toward his grandfather's house.

"So, Suze, how was your day?" he asked conversationally. He drove casually, with the supreme confidence he exuded whenever he did anything that simply said, "I kick ass at everything I do."

"I'd rather not talk about it," I grumbled, recalling my argument with Jesse that morning. He didn't press the subject, just drove. "What was that shifter information you found?" I asked.

"Well, last night, I was going through some of the folders, and I found some papers that I hadn't read yet—Slaski's notes about some hieroglyphic translations. They were stuck between some pages." I nodded, but didn't say anything right away.

As he drove, he kept shooting glances at me. It got sort of unnerving. On about the seventh time, I asked, "What?"

He grinned. "Sorry. You just look really good today." I blushed.

He pulled the car into his driveway expertly, and parked it smoothly. I climbed out of the car, and he led me into the house.

It was as cold and formal as it had been 4 months ago. "Do you want something to drink or eat, first?" he asked, heading into the kitchen. As I followed him, I heard a cupboard open, and the clinking of two glasses.

As I stepped into the kitchen, the first thing I saw was the stainless steel refrigerator. I suddenly blushed, remembering a time when I was over here after being at the beach. He was about to go find me some aloe for my sunburn on my back, when suddenly, in a fit of desire, he had grabbed me, and pushed me against the fridge, kissing me, whispering wonderful things in my ear. I could practically feel the hard, flat panels of it against my back as I stood there, remembering how his hands tried to untie the back of my halter bathing suit (it didn't work—I had tied it in a tight knot for fear of it coming undone, well, other ways). Let me tell you, the cold metal of the refrigerator did wonders for cooling my sunburn.

Paul smirked at me as he opened it, as if he were remembering that moment between us as well. He filled the glasses with ice, then put water in them. He handed one to me, and we both took a sip.

"Come on, I'll show you the notes," he said. I followed him up the stairs and through the sterile, hospital like hallway, and into his familiar bedroom, where he immediately pulled me down into the _very_ familiar bed.

I fingered the gray down comforter uneasily. Again, I felt a rush of nostalgia as I remembered that night in August… when I was underneath the blanket, underneath him. Images came back to me… of him, looking at me in adoration, kissing me, murmuring things into my neck. I remembering his face above mine, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. His hands gently caressing my face, trying to relax me.

I felt myself getting hot.

"Here," he said. He handed me a stack of old, wrinkled papers. They smelled musty, and I wrinkled my nose a bit. I took the first one, and studied the aged script, written what must have been at least 40 years ago.

Translations of certain walls of hieroglyphics inside several pyramids mention a "Transferal of Spirits." They detail stories of bringing members of important politicians' and religious leaders' families back to life after tragic death. They also mention using a slave as the "vessel." It is my personal opinion that this means that the Egyptian shamans found a way to replace a body's soul with that of another…

"Whoa… so, like, we could bring people back to life?" I asked, while continuing to skim the notes. "Well, in another body… but wouldn't that be like murder? Kicking another soul out of a body?" Paul wasn't answering. He was completely silent. "Paul, are you listening to--" I began as I looked up, but then I saw his face.

He was staring at me intently, with a half smile on his face.

"What?" I asked nervously.

I flinched as his hand took the papers out of my hand, and put them on the bedside table. His other hand went up, and held my face. His thumb grazed my cheekbone. I couldn't breathe.

"Suze," he whispered. Just my name. Then…

"Suze… I didn't realize it then." 'Then' of course being when we were actually a couple. "I was so stupid."

"What?" I asked nervously.

"I love you," he said simply.

My heart literally stopped functioning. Those words… those words I had longed to hear four months ago. That Jesse has never said to me.

Paul. Paul loves me. After four damn months, he finally returns my feelings… even if its too late.

Or is it? A little voice said.

That little voice persuaded my body not to push him away when what happened next. It convinced me to react… react the way he wanted.

His lips were on mine, his hands in my hair. His tongue ran along my lips, which I opened to him. He moaned into my mouth, and fell back onto the bed, pulling me down on top of him.

My hands went to his chest. I ran them up and down, feeling the hard muscle beneath. My mind was no longer attached to my body. No thoughts went through my head as my fingers went to the top button of his shirt.

One of his knees shoved itself between my legs, spreading them apart slightly (a very dangerous thing in a skirt). I shivered, and his hand started flirting with the hem of my shirt.

Suddenly, he rolled over, so he was on top of me. He started kissing my neck, alternating between pecking it and practically sucking on it.

All of a sudden, his shirt was unbuttoned (how did that happen?). I traced my fingers along the skin there, making him shiver and groan my name.

His hands had found their way under my shirt, teasing the skin, getting higher and higher, until…

"Oh my God," I gasped, involuntarily, bringing my hands to his.

He chuckled into my jaw as he began massaging and making circles there… oh wow… he was good at this…

In the corner of my brain, a shrill noise registered. "Paul," I moaned. "The phone is ringing."

"Let it ring," he whispered hoarsely, then brought his lips back to mine.

"This is Paul, I'm either out or busy. Leave one, and if I feel like it, I'll get back to you." Paul's answering machine echoed across the room.

"Hey, Paul, It's Beth." My mind tore away from Paul, who was, at the moment, nibbling on my lip. "I was thinking maybe we could go out tonight, if you're not busy. I had a lot of fun on Friday." Suddenly, this mysterious girl's voice lowered, like she was whispering. "A lot of fun." She giggled. "Call me back. I hope we can repeat it." Click.

Oh my God.

Paul must not have been paying attention, because he certainly seemed shocked when I shoved him off of me.

"What the- Suze? What?" he asked, and actually seemed concerned. "What's up?"

"Beth?" I asked incredulously. "God, Paul, and I really thought you cared." I stood up, and quickly started buttoning back up where Paul's roaming fingers had been. Ew, and it had probably been in this bed. Where I was just…

EW.

"Suze, what are you talking about?"

" 'I had a lot of fun, Paul. How about I come over again tonight so you can screw me again?'" He looked flabbergasted.

"What, that?" He laughed, as if finding out the guy who "loves" you routinely sleeps with other girls. "Suze, you can't think that meant anything. Things were so hard, not having you… she was just keeping me company until you came back around." He crawled across the bed, and started kissing my neck again, but I shoved him away.

"Is that what you said to Laura about me? And to Kelly about Laura?" I asked furiously. I shoved my feet back in my shoes, and started running down the stairs.

God. I'm such a stupid, whorish, IDIOT.

"Suze, stop it. Listen." He had caught up to me, grabbed my arm, and turned me around to look at him. "I really do love you." He smirked. "And, judging by how you were just acting…"

"Keep your bullshit, Paul," I hissed. "Fuck you."

With that, I shoved him away, and got out the front door before he could say another word.

And that's when I began to sob.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Okay, you diehard PFCers, don't beat me up for the Beth thing. Because really, he did the same thing in Twilight with Kelly.

Anyway, review now.


	6. Chapter 6

Hey guys… only one more chapter after this!

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Oh my God.

What had I done?

Gone to second base with my ex boyfriend, while STILL technically going out with Jesse.

Oh my God.

I felt horrible. I wanted to throw up and pass out and _die_ all at once. How could I be so stupid to trust Paul again? After he hurt me so badly last time?

He took advantages of my weaknesses. That boy must be psychic or something. I mean, I was insecure about Jesse being attracted to me. He kept calling me beautiful. I was struggling with our past, so he took me to the places where I had the best memories of him—his house, the deli…

His bedroom. His bed.

He didn't come after me after I left the house. I just ran down his driveway, and down his road, tears streaming down my face. I felt like so dirty. Grade A Whore, that's me.

I was so confused. Not about Paul, though. Not anymore. If I hadn't known he was a jerk before, I did now. And I knew going back to him at all was the biggest mistake of my life.

No, I was confused about what to do now. It was about 4 in the afternoon, and I was stranded in the middle of the Upper Class neighborhood.

I pulled out my cell phone, but saw that the battery was almost dead, and I didn't have any service. So I kept walking.

As I neared one of the main roads, I realized I was only about half a mile from Jesse's house. And I knew I needed to talk to him. I had to tell him.

Because even if he thinks I'm ugly, he actually seems to care about _me_. Paul seems to just be after my looks, or something.

Ha. I wish I realized this a few days ago.

As I got closer to his house, I realized that I must look like crap. I had been walking for almost half an hour in the cold and crying… I probably looked like someone hit me in the face with a baseball bat. I almost considered stopping at a gas station to hose off my face in the bathroom, but then I remembered something in a movie I had watched—ironically, with Jesse. "You need a hose, but there's no time. Besides, it shows sincerity." That's what the cheating wife's mom said to her.

Oh God. Cheating wife.

I did stop quickly, though, just in case it was _really_ horrible. Jesse already thought I was ugly. I didn't want to make it any worse. I dabbed my cheeks a bit quickly, and then kept on shivering and crying and walking through the cold.

By the time I got to his house, any repairs I had done at the gas station were gone, I'm sure. However terrible I looked, though, I summoned up all the bravery I had, and knocked on the door.

I heard footsteps. I took a deep breath. The doorknob began to twist… the door was opening…

"Jesse, I--" Oh. Not Jesse.

It was a woman. She was pretty, with dark brown shoulder length layered hair, big brown eyes framed by black glasses, and a beautiful tan skin.

I immediately recognized her from the wedding photo in the hallway as Jesse's Aunt Elena.

She looked at me, startled, for a moment. Then she must have recognized _me_ from the picture of Jesse and I on his dresser.

Don't see how, though, considering I probably had the reddest and wettest face imaginable, between the cold and the crying.

"You're Susannah," she said. "Come in. Do you, er, want a tissue?" I accepted, and blew my nose a few times and did what I could to dry my cheeks and eyes. Even though she seemed a bit curious about why I was sobbing, she quickly brought me to Jesse's room. "He's in here." Then she opened the door a bit, and peeked her head in. "Jesse," I heard her say. "Someone's here to see you."

"Can you tell them I'm busy? I'm not up to seeing anyone now," he was saying, but then Elena pushed open the door the rest of the way.

Jesse was lying on his bed, not doing anything. Just staring at the ceiling. But when he heard the door creak, he looked up, and saw me.

"Susannah!" he said, shocked, and sat up. "Uh… come in." Elena looked at him, then me, then him again, and must have picked up on the vibes between us.

"Jesse, _voy a ir a la tienda, tengo que comprar, ah, papas, y… helado._"

Jesse raised his eyebrows at her, but answered with a, "_Sí, gracias."_

After she left, Jesse got up off the bed, and led me to sit down next to him. "What did she say?" I sniffed. Okay, I was stalling. But also curious.

He gave me a half smile. "She's going to the store. She needs to buy potatoes and ice cream." Despite my complete depression and guilt about what I'd done, I laughed a bit at her obvious excuse to leave us alone. Jesse, however, sobered quickly. "Susannah, what is the matter?"

The moment of truth. Oh God. I don't think I can do it.

"Uh.. well… I…" I stuttered productively, wringing a tissue in my hands. "Is that a new shirt?" Jesse continued looking at me seriously.

"Susannah, what is it?" I bit my lip.

"Jesse… I did a bad thing," I said, and started to cry again.

"What is it, Susannah?" he repeated gently. He took the shredded tissue from me, and held them gently in his hands, which only made me cry harder.

I am such a horrible person. I'm going to hell.

But I needed to tell him. I needed him to forgive me.

Because, even though I was completely stupid and hypnotized by Paul the past few days, I knew that I needed Jesse.

And straying from him only made me realize that I really did love him.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, and decided to start from the beginning.

"At the deli," I whispered. "I was with Paul." He looked at me disbelievingly.

"Paul? Your ex-boyfriend?" I nodded. He exploded. "Susannah, are you stupid? That—" insert nasty sounding Spanish word "—hit you!"

"Well, not really… he only shoved me…" I argued feebly, trying to make myself not sound like such an idiot loser for going back to him. I stopped, though, at Jesse's dark glare. "He said he didn't mean it. That he was confused because he thought he cared about me too much, and was so upset for hurting me." Jesse's look darkened, and I took a gasping, sobbing breath, but I continued.

"And… he kissed me. On Saturday." Jesse stood up angrily, and walked across the room, cursing in Spanish. At least I think it was cursing.

Seeing him so upset hurt me. "I didn't kiss him back, though," I added in a hurry, before mumbling, "Not then, at least…"

"What happened next?" he demanded. I sniffed, and wiped away a few stray tears, before pressing on.

"I went home. But then today…" I began sobbing again, remembering what a horrible person I'd been.

"What happened today?" he asked, a bit calmer, but the angry edge to his voice still sliced my heart.

"He told me he had some interesting information… about our shifting powers."

"Shifting powers?" he asked, confused.

"Paul says that we're more than mediators… we can do things. Like, the stuff he showed me, we can put a ghost into another's body and bring them back to life—"

"Susannah," he said.

"Right." I sniffed again, grabbed a tissue from the box on his bedside table, and quickly wiped my nose. "He told me he had some information, so I went back to his house with him after school… and… he said that he loved me."

I started sobbing again, thinking about how stupid I was. Jesse couldn't look at me. He knew.

"Did you…" he began, but couldn't finish. He had sunk into his futon, and his elbow was on the table next to it, his arm supporting his head.

I knew exactly what he meant though.

"No! No, Jesse… we just kissed." _Not true_, my conscience said. _Don't lie. Don't make it worse by lying even more._ "And… touched." But then it sounded like I had given him a hand job, or something, so I corrected myself again. "Not, like… below the belt, or anything."

"But below the shirt," he said. He sounded dead. Like I'd killed him.

And that was killing me.

"Yes," I whispered, unable to bear the pain of my swollen heart.

"Have you… ended whatever you have with him?" Jesse asked, in the same toneless voice.

"Of course, Jesse," I said meaningfully. "I realized how stupid I was being. I was a complete idiot. And I'm more sorry than I could ever express in words." I bravely stood up, and went over to him. I sat down next to him, and tried to touch his arm, but he jerked it away. However stung, I remained next to him.

"Why?" He asked. His voice was strange and shaky, like he was holding back something, or there was something in his throat. "Do I not compare to him? Am I not good enough for you?" Each word drove a knife deeper into my heart, for him thinking that.

"No, Jesse! Of course not. You are _so_ much better than him." I sighed. "It's just that… he kept telling me I'm beautiful. And you don't think so. I just…" His head snapped up, and looked at me in surprise. His eyes looked dead, but they were still really, really, shiny.

"You think I don't find you beautiful?" he asked incredulously. Huh…?

"Well… on my birthday. You just shoved me away and said you didn't want me." Jesse's confusion disappeared, but he shut his eyes and groaned.

"Oh, Susannah… I never meant it like that." He sighed, and rubbed his eyes. "It's just…" he sighed again. Whatever he wanted to say was clearly difficult. "Susannah, I'm not ready… for that. I can't go to that level. Not yet."

"Then why didn't you just say so, Jesse?" I asked. This time when I touched his arm, he didn't push me away.

"I know that you… have done that already," he said diplomatically. "And you were obviously ready. I just… was too embarrassed to say that I'm not ready. Paul was willing to give you what you wanted… but I couldn't." He groaned again. "I'm so sorry you took it the wrong way… I just was afraid to tell you the truth. I was afraid you would compare me to that bastard and see me as lesser than him."

"So you don't think I'm ugly?" I sniffed.

"_Dios_, of course not. Susannah, I have never been more attracted to anyone else, ever. You are the most beautiful girl I've ever met… and don't ever think otherwise." We just looked into each others eyes, until we both remembered what was going on between us. He sighed.

"Did we screw everything up?" I asked helplessly.

"I don't want it to be," Jesse said. "Susannah, even with what you did… I love you."

Those three words. Finally.

If they came from his mouth first today, things might be very different.

I gave him a watery smile. "I love you too, Jesse."

He leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips. Oh, so different than Paul…

And so much better.

It ended, though, when he pulled away. We both looked at each other for about a minute before either of us said anything. I eventually broke the silence. "Jesse… I really am sorry. What I did today was the worst thing I've ever done in my life. I just hope you can forgive me," I said.

"I hope so too…I know you're sorry, and I trust you not to do it again. I don't want to give up on us, _Querida_."

"I don't either… I love you," I repeated. He wrapped his arms around me, and kissed the top of my head.

And I knew in my heart, that things are going to work out. Jesse was still pissed at me, though he had certainly calmed down. And I don't think he'd quite forgiven me.

But everything was going to be okay.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

The movie I mentioned was "Spanglish" by the way. Great movie.

Anyway, review… one more chapter, sort of an epilogue… just to tie all the strings up (particularly with Jesse and his not being ready for sex… lol).


	7. Chapter 7

_sniff... So sad that it's all over… thanks for reviewing, and Happy Summer to everyone:D_

_Oh, little warning: This chapter is more of an M than a T. Just so you know._

………………………………………………………………………………………………

For the next few months, Jesse, understandably, kept a sort of tight leash on me. It got annoying, but I knew why he was doing it—so I let him. He wanted to trust me, but I had crushed him when I told him about Paul and me. So I let him call me up and check on me whenever I was out with anyone other than him or Cee Cee and Adam, and I let him be a bit possessive of me around other guys. I had dug my own grave, and I kept telling myself that he was only trying to help me out of it.

We were both working hard on "communication," too. That sounds like we're an old married couple. But Jesse felt really bad about sending me on a head trip and making me feel ugly and unwanted, when, he assured me, that was the complete opposite of what he felt. So he thought we should both be more honest with our feelings.

Things were weird at first… but as time went on, we got back to the same level of closeness that we had before the Incident… the Incident being that horrible weekend. Eventually, things got better, and we were closer and, well, more in love than we'd ever been.

Paul kept bugging me, though, for about a week or two. He called, showed up at school, and tried his best to tell me how sorry he was, and how he really did love me. However, after multiple "Screw yous" and "Go aways" from both Jesse, Cee Cee (who heard the whole story, and was fairly sympathetic, after she yelled herself hoarse at me), and, of course, me. Looking back, I don't know why I forgave Paul. Cee Cee said that he preyed on my weaknesses and insecurities, what with the constant, "You're so beautiful" remarks, when I was feeling so unwanted by Jesse. After he left me alone, I heard somewhere that he started going out with Laura again, then a string of other girls.

By the time summer came, though, my, er, infidelity was a thing of the past. Though it was one of the best few months of my life, it was bittersweet because I knew Jesse would be leaving.

Not permanently. He was accepted to all of the colleges he applied to as Pre-med, and chose one about an hour and fifteen minutes away. It was up closer to his parents' house, so he would be living there and commuting the 20 minutes or so to the university.

He promised to come back whenever he had a free few hours, and he would stay at his aunt and uncle's house most weekends—sort of alternating the set up they'd had during high school.

Which is why I was over at his house on an August night, 4 days or so before he moved back in with his family. I was helping him pack.

"God, Jesse, how many books do you _have_?" I asked teasingly as I shoved them all into cardboard boxes.

"Not enough," he replied as he packed up his clothes. "One can never have enough books."

"Jesse, you already have, like, a thousand!" I said, as I sealed the 5th box of books.

"More like eight hundred," he laughed.

About fifteen minutes later, after hauling the (extremely heavy) boxes of books out to his car, I collapsed on the bed. He fell down next to me. As we both lay, just staring at the ceiling, he reached over and took my hand and squeezed it gently.

"I can't believe you're leaving in a few days," I said, as I moved my eyes from the white ceiling to him. He turned to look at me.

"I know, _Querida_. But we will see each other on weekends."

"But I see you once a day _now_," I said sadly. He lifted our entwined hands and brought them to his lips.

"I know. I will miss you… but it could be a lot worse. I'm very grateful that I got accepted to local schools… I don't know what I'd do if I had to go to school hours away, or even worse, on the east coast." I shuddered at the idea of him being 3000 miles away.

"I'll still miss you," I said, rolling onto my side to face him completely. He did the same, and closed the space between us with his lips.

What started out as an innocent, loving kiss soon became full of passion and emotion. Neither of us wanted him to be leaving so soon, even if he would be back most weekends. No more spontaneous after school trips to the beach, no more hanging out (and making out) until ten—my curfew and when his aunt and uncle got home.

His hands cradled my face he kissed me. My arms were wrapped around him in a tight embrace, wanting to be as close to him as possible. We rolled over, so that I was lying on my back again and he was on top. I shivered delightfully as his hands slowly ran down my arms and sides to my hips, where his hands held me firmly.

I moved my hands down to his chest, and unbuttoned a few of the buttons, and slipped my hands underneath, feeling his smooth, hard skin and the muscle underneath. He felt _so_ good…he was so warm…

Until he pulled away, breathing raggedly. "Susannah," he panted, looking down at me solemnly.

"Sorry, Jesse," I said. I removed my hands.

I had promised Jesse that I would try my best not to get carried away and tempt him to do things he didn't want to do.

I guess I crossed that line.

I started to sit up, but he stopped me.

"No, _Querida_, it's not that." Oh…? "Susannah… if you want to… I am ready. I want to." His vagueness didn't matter, because I knew exactly what he was talking about, and why he didn't go into specifics (he knew about my dislike of the phrase 'making love.' And 'I want to have sex' just didn't seem appropriate).

"Are you sure?" I asked. I didn't want this to be a spur-of-the-moment thing… and judging by the way I felt his, er, lower body, against my leg, I was afraid he was thinking and making his decisions with the "other" male brain.

"I have wanted to, and been ready, for a while… but the timing wasn't right," he breathed into my neck. It made my whole body shiver and react. "And I didn't want to bring it up until we had the opportunity."

"What… about… Elena… and Jose?" I asked, with difficulty. He had started gently nibbling my earlobe, which actually sounds sort of weird, but feels _amazing._.

My mother has fallen in love with Jesse, and decided that he'd never try to compromise my purity—not that it's still in tact, but whatever. What she doesn't know won't hurt her. She trusts Jesse so much, she actually lets me sleep over occasionally—she'd been to the house once, to pick me up, and knew the intimacy of its layout. If his aunt and uncle are home, then there's no way we would be able to do anything inappropriate without them knowing.

Plus, I promised I'd always sleep on the couch.

Anyway, tonight was one of those nights, when she granted me permission to stay over night. She didn't like Jesse driving me home after dark, since some of the roads between his house and mine are sort of curvy and dangerous, and she knew that we wouldn't be done packing until well after eleven.

What neither of us knew, though, was that Jesse was home alone all night… if she knew, I doubt she'd let me go over in the first place, even in daylight. Which is probably why he didn't mention anything.

"They are at his sister's house for the night. His niece turned 10 today…They won't be back until after ten or so tomorrow morning," he murmured, bringing me back to the bedroom, and away from thoughts of my mom. He was almost inaudible, but because of the proximity to my ear, I heard him loud and clear.

And resumed unbuttoning his shirt.

He chuckled, and moved his lips back to my mouth. His hands slipped under the hem of my shirt, tickling the skin underneath as his fingers made gentle trails upwards.

"Oh… Jesse…" I gasped, as his fingers found their way under my bra. With a knowledge of women's undergarments I didn't expect, he found and undid the clasp without any difficulty. He then moved to my tee-shirt, peeling it off hurriedly with a surprising prowess. "Whoa, there," I teased, breathing heavily. "We have all night." He laughed, and did slow down a bit.

"I'm sorry, _Querida_, but whenever I'm around you, it is so difficult to keep myself from tearing the clothes off your body," he said hoarsely, as he finally removed all of the clothing on my upper body, "and ravishing you."

He leaned on his elbow for only a moment, looking at me with love and, well, lust, and continued speaking… in between kisses. "And now…being able to… is making me… very happy."

No kidding.

With those words he took his lips down my neck, and collarbone, and chest, and with those last words…

"Oh my God," I moaned, delving my hands into Jesse's hair as his lips and tongue did miraculous things I never thought he would do. Who knew he could get so… aroused? And get _me_ the same way?

I regained my composure enough to push his unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders. His skin felt hot against mine, and so, so good. I dragged my fingers across his chest, causing him to shiver.

I rolled over, pushing him onto his back. I sat up, straddling his legs. I suddenly felt déjà vu, and realized that I was in this position when Jesse had stopped me the first time—but this time, his face showed no sign of regret or inner dilemma…he was just looking at me with an appreciative smile.

It might have been because I wasn't wearing anything above the waistline of my jeans, though.

Anyway, he was only looking at me with a welcome expression on his face as I started unbuttoning and unzippering his pants. Until his eyes closed and his face screwed up—in pleasure, I think—when, in attempts to pull down the zipper, my hand brushed against him. Well, since this seemed to make him feel good, I decided to _brush_ my hand against him a few more times.

However, after a few moments of Jesse moaning my name (which was very gratifying), what I really wanted was to get his pants off. So I resumed, with his help, pulling them off. He then pulled me on top of him, back into a lying down position, and kissed me. This time the kiss was much slower and deeper than our previous quick, desperate ones. We both wrapped our arms around each other, pressing our bodies close together.

I was amazed at how comfortable I felt with him, how much I loved him. I'd never felt so strongly about anyone, and just being there, in Jesse's arms, kissing him, was the most perfect feeling in the world.

However, because of our, uh, excited state, our hormones took over again, and his hands went down to my jeans, and started messing with the zipper. With a little bit of help on my part, I was soon down to my underwear.

I loved the feeling of our legs just tangled up together (thank God I shaved that morning), lying on his bed kissing and holding each other. It was marvelous.

It got even better when Jesse carefully started to pull down my low-rise bikini underwear. I stopped breathing altogether, and just watched him as he slowly took away my last piece of clothing. He, too, was holding his breath, because when I was finally completely naked he let it out as he admired my unclothed body. I didn't really think it was worthy of the appreciative look he was giving me, but whatever floats his boat.

"Oh, _Querida_, you're so beautiful," he murmured, bringing one hand up to caress my cheek.

"You're not so bad yourself," I said in my own eloquent way, before pulling his face back to mine. However, after a few moments of kissing, I figured the playing field wasn't fair. I mean, here I was, naked, but he still had his boxers on.

So I started to take them off.

He seemed only the slightest bit nervous, but I figured it was because this was the first time he'd actually been "full frontal" with a girl.

Besides, you know, his mom. When he was a baby. But I doubt he cared much then.

Finally, he was as naked as I was. I sat back (since I was still on top) and looked at him, with a little smile on my face.

I KNOW it's wrong. I KNOW it's what every guy dreads. I KNOW being compared to Paul was something Jesse was desperately afraid of.

But upon admiring his statuesque, perfect, god-like body, I couldn't help comparing Jesse and Paul. I couldn't help but notice Jesse was, well, _bigger_ than Paul was.

Eventually, though, Jesse interrupted my observations and pulled me back down to him, and rolled over so that his weight was on top of me, but it wasn't at all uncomfortable (unlike the time Adam pounced on me as a joke one day at the beach…and Adam weighs less, too). He was leaning on his elbows, which framed my chest, while his hands gently brushed a few strands of hair out of my face.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing me gently. I kissed him back more forcefully, and curled my leg around his hip.

And then, after only a moment's hesitation… we were, well, having sex. (Again with the terrible cliché phobia, this was the only adequate wording I could come up with).

At first, it hurt a bit. I mean, I'm not a virgin, but I only had sex once, several months ago. But, Jesse seemed to be enjoying it, if his moan of "Oh, _Querida_," into my mouth at the moment he entered me was to be proof. And knowing that I was giving him happiness and ecstasy was completely worth the discomfort, and gave me a completely different sense of pleasure I didn't know was possible.

Jesse's hands slid underneath me, to the small of my back, and arched me into him. Both of our breathing was heavy and, well, sort of erotic.

As Jesse's hands pressed me against him and caressed me, and his lips continued to mutter fantastic things in my ears in Spanish (they sounded sort of dirty. Not that I knew, or anything.), the pain started ebbing away, and it all just seemed so wonderfully perfect, the two of us together in this way.

Eventually, though, it ended (spectacularly, though, I might add), and Jesse lay, collapsed on top of me. Both of us were breathing fast, unable to speak or move or anything except, well, breathe.

Eventually, though, Jesse's sort of raspy voice broke our silence. "Susannah… that was incredible."

"It was, wasn't it?" I panted. He kissed me slowly and gently, holding my face with the softest grip imaginable.

"_Te amo, Querida_," he whispered.

And, with those words, I knew that this night would end completely different than a night about four months ago with a different person. This wasn't just a one time thing; I just knew that this was the first night together of many.

And I absolutely couldn't wait.

………………………………………………………………………………………………..

_Good? Bad? Okay?_

_Please review… and if not for this chapter, then for the story. Even if you haven't reviewed before, let me know what you think._

_It's been fun, and though I have no immediate plans for another story, we'll see what happens… perhaps I will be struck with inspiration. Thanks so much to all my reviewers—you rock :D_


End file.
